The Walk
by a1y-puff
Summary: It makes Allen almost wants to smack Kanda upside the head, for the longing in Lenalee's voice is so clear it's a wonder Kanda actually missed it. Then again, can Allen say the same thing about Lenalee? He certainly won't hit Lena's head for not noticing the longing in Lavi's eye. "Christ," Allen mumbles inaudibly. "This is a train wreck." -childhood friends!AU-
1. Chapter 1

Written for_** 50 Sentences Challenge **_in **Infantrum** (the Indonesian Fanfiction Author Forum), _**Set 4**_. I actually want to post this after I have at least 10 themes written but then for the past month work's been hectic and then my cat Jynx fell ill two weeks ago. And then yesterday he died ;_;

Anyway for those who are waiting for **Days Passing By**, I kinda lost my file so I have to rewrite it sorryyyy. I'll finish it, really but yeah, it might take a while, I'm so soooorryyyy I feel so bad I made you guys wait for so long. But the amount of reviews really do motivate me so thank you for that :D

This is **AU**, **eventual Yullen**, and I hope you'll enjoy this. There will be more, obviously since this is only 5 themes out of 50 XD

Thanks to **Ryu-reikai Akuma** for the quickie beta even if she doesn't know who the hell they are XD

**Disclaimer: **Hoshino Katsura owns them all. And hey, Kanda's back 8D

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><p><strong>THE WALK <strong>

**.part 1.**

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><p><strong>Fade<strong>

Pale fingers comb through soft strands of hair as silver eyes scrutinize the mirror for fading color nearing the roots of brown hair. Allen Walker frowns at his own reflection. He would have to dye his hair again, soon.

"Aren't you tired of doing that all the damn time?" a gruff, semi-mocking question is directed at him from behind for the nth time within the last two years, and Allen sees through the mirror the taller figure standing behind him with a raised eyebrow.

"Shut up," he pouts, "I have to—"

"No one ever said you have to _change_ your natural color."

A twitch of the eye. "My natural color is brown."

"_Was_," Kanda replies easily, unfazed by the glare Allen is sending him via the mirror. "Now it's white. Get over it."

Almost immediately, Allen whips his head to face his sorry excuse of a friend—if Kanda could even be called that—fully meaning to give the jerk a piece of his mind, but f course, Kanda beats him to it.

"I know someone with blue hair," he starts, halting Allen's words from escaping his throat, "Or neon green, for fuck's sake," Kanda shakes his head as if mourning the stupidity of humanity, then looks back up to Allen. "Yours is just old man hair."

Allen's mouth is closing slowly, and then he turns back to the mirror, once again running his fingers through his hair, slowly.

"Right," he tells Kanda's reflection, "And yours is girly—"

"What the fu—"

"And no one says anything," he adds a little louder, a tad firmer.

Allen can see the contemplative frown on Kanda's features, before his so-called childhood friend throws his face to the side with a soft cluck of his tongue. "Tch, of course. My hair isn't anyone else's business."

A small smile stretches Allen's lips. "Of course."

Kanda doesn't look so surprised when Allen shows up with completely white hair the next day.

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**Over**

Allen is used to people staring at him. After all, that 'fancy' scar on his face _does_ stand out against his pale complexion. Now, with his new choice of hair color—it's his _natural_ color, as Kanda keeps on _kindly_ reminding him—he really should have expected the amount of stares he's getting.

Yes, white isn't such a weird hair color, if you are not a boy of sixteen.

Still, Allen refuses to give in to this—shame, pressure—_what-fucking-ever_, as Kanda would put it—because it is his decision, because this is who he is.

He's only thankful that the stares—and whispers, let's not forget the whispers—would subside whenever Kanda is in the vicinity, because his death glare turns the curious stares away and makes the whispers stop.

"They better fucking get over it," Kanda says, to which Allen responds with a smile.

It is Allen who gets 'over it' after a month or so.

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**Seasons**

"Eep, cold, cold, cold!" the boy squeaks as the sudden coldness on the top of his head. Looking back over his shoulder, Allen finds Kanda grinning widely, and he pouts. "Will you stop that already?"

Because, really, ever since it started snowing, Kanda had taken a liking to randomly throwing snowballs at him. Especially, at his head. Even more so than _ever._

Kanda snorts as he is walking over to where Allen is standing. "What? It suits you," he says before outright pressing a snowball on top of Allen's head, making the boy yelp and swat that hand along with the pile of snow away from his head.

Shaking his head rapidly, Allen then looks up at his annoyingly taller companion and frowns. "Not. _Funny._ Just because I have white hair now—"

"Like I said. It suits you," Kanda says, and for some elusive reason, Allen's stomach kinds of flutters. But then Kanda just /has/ to add, "Bean sprout."

Allen rolls his eyes. "BaKanda."

And no, he isn't smiling.

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**Face**

In time, wounds might heal, pain will dull, but scars will be there to stay. A reminder of what you have achieved or what you have done—_suffered_—complete with the shadows of the burning ache which may be fading as time goes by, but never really forgotten. Depending on how you've gotten the scar, or how you've survived it, it would either be a medal or a curse.

For Allen, it's probably both.

Wrinkled, red fingertips trace down the line starting from a pale forehead, over a closed eyelid and lower to a soft cheek which is starting to lose its baby fat.

This scar, this arm—they are a proof of the tragedy happening a long time ago. One which, for the life of him, Allen can't remember, but it shows up from time to time in his subconscious, visiting on restless nights and waking him up with a scream.

Still, Allen can't remember, and he isn't sure he wants to remember.

"_But you survived,"_ Kanda had told him one day when they both were young and rebellious. _"Think of it as a medal. That scar on your face looks pretty cool, doesn't it?"_

"_No, it doesn't," _Allen had replied then, _"It's just a gash over my face."_

He remembers Kanda staring at his scar contemplatively, reaching out to trace the scar in curiosity, then, _"Then make it cooler," _the thirteen-year-old Kanda had told him then.

It was the day that, at 11, Allen had a reversed pentagon tattooed on his forehead, somehow. Blame Kanda's weird sense of coolness at the time.

Still, Allen hasn't regretted it until today.

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**Warm**

"Move aside, bean. You're eating up space for someone so damn _small._"

"Hey! I'm not that small! And this is _my_ bed."

"Tch."

"…what are you doing here anyway?" is whispered.

Rustling sheets, shifting weights, and Allen is faced with Kanda's frown. "Because a certain someone just _had_ to wake up screaming in the dead of night and babble nonsense on the phone?"

Allen's cheeks heat up. "Sorry about that. I don't even remember—but umm. I'm fine now, so—"

"So shut up and sleep. Tiedoll already kicked me out here so I'm not going back now."

"Even if your house is like, next door?" Allen teases, earning him a sulky—sleepy?—glare from his temporary bedmate. Not that it deters him, though, because Allen is smiling now.

"Sleep," Kanda hisses out, messing with the blanket until they are covered chest-high. Allen sing-songs his affirmative and shifts in bed—the small space forcing their shoulders and arms to press together, but Allen doesn't mind.

It's warmer this way anyway.

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****Please don't break my heart by leaving without reviewing, especially if you put this into your fave list? Please? ;_;****

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****YULLEN CELEBRATION WEEKS 2011 HAS STARTED  
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**THE THEMES HAVE BEEN DECIDED! DON'T FORGET TO WORK ON YOUR SUBMISSIONS OKAY? :D**

** For further info please visit my profile :)  
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	2. Chapter 2

I especially fail at updating stuff. Look how long it's been, more than a year already xD;

_Standard fanfiction disclaimer applies. _Special thanks to** Monochromatic Pylon **for beta-reading this. :D

**Pairing: **Eventual Yullen

**Rating: **T/PG

**Setting: **AU, in which Kanda and Allen are childhood friends and neigbors

**A/N: **Super belated birthday giftie for my beloved **Nherizu**. And when I said super belated, I mean _super_ belated, XD

Also, **YULLEN WEEK 2012 **anyone? **The themes are up**! Go to my profile for more info, because ffnet kept preventing me to give the links here (even with the spaces!)

Anyway, here goes the second installment of this ficcie :D

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><p><strong>THE WALK<strong>

**.part 2.**

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><p><strong>Cross<strong>

There is just something in the way Cross' lips lift up to one side, and in that particular tilt of head that Allen finds rather unsettling.

"What?" Allen asks warily, frowning up at his so-called guardian and cannot help to be annoyed that even at sixteen, he still barely reaches the man's shoulder. Damn Cross for being so tall.

Cross simply hums and shifts his gaze back to Kanda who is making himself comfortable in Allen's bed with all his _I-am-ignoring-you_ glory. "Don't tell me he moved in here while I was away?" he smirks.

_Oh_ _god,_ Allen groans. Someone who just came home unannounced after disappearing to god knows where has no right to be looking like—like he knows something Allen doesn't. It's bloody annoying. "Of course not, he lives _next door_."

Cross sneers. "And here I thought Froi was insane when he talked about matchmaking our brats all those years ago," he mumbles to himself, but doesn't bother to lower his voice.

"Wha—"

Kanda snorts from the bed, and Cross' left eyebrow rises higher.

"What in the world are you talking about anyway?" Allen pouts at Cross, which only earns him a rough pat on the head.

"Whatever, for now you're just brats anyway," Cross concludes, and adds, "Prepare me dinner in an hour. Tiedoll's brat better be gone by then."

"But—" but Cross already leaves before either boys can say anything, muttering something about 'brats' and 'too young' and—was that 'gay' he just heard?

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**Trap**

Kanda is not the friendliest person in existence, despite his good looks. Sure, he has fangirls. But these girls, aside from annoying the life out of him, are also the source of his haters. Being popular means _some_ people are bound to be jealous of him.

Kanda just doesn't want to admit he'd been stupid that somehow, those bastards from his P.E. class managed to lock him up in the bloody storage room.

What the heck, he must have been so out of it. He got almost no sleep the night before. It didn't help that when he texted Allen to—_god forbid_—get help, the kid just _laughed in his face._

Allen did come though, with that lock-picking skill Kanda doesn't even want to know where he'd learned, and _came to his rescue,_ as the brat had put it.

"Stop. Fucking. Laughing," Kanda bites out through gritted teeth.

Allen does try to stop, but it's really kind of hard. It's not really the notion of some punks managing to kick Kanda in a room and lock him up—well, admittedly, it's kind of hilarious too. But it's Kanda's annoyed, _'I can't believe I fell into it' _face that makes the whole thing that much more funny.

"I'm sorry," Allen chokes out through a fit of giggles. "Or actually, no, I'm not sorry—" he barely dodges that fist before it hits his arm, "Hey, now, you better aim that fist over there," he tilts his head to the side.

Kanda looks behind Allen and sees the group of fucktards who had locked him up earlier just walking up obliviously to their direction. The group stiffens as their blood chill, because _Yuu Kanda _is staring at them with murder in his eyes.

They don't have time to run before Kanda is grinning menacingly, blocking their escape.

Needless to say, Allen just watches from the sidelines as Kanda beats them up, because, _really_. Which idiot dares to mess with his Kanda—

Wait. Where did that come from?

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**Palm**

"Hmmm… you see the line over here?" Daisya asks as he lightly traces a line from the area just under Kanda's index finger stretching all the way to below his pinky.

Allen stares at Kanda's palm currently in Daisya's hand, trying—and failing—to see what Daisya is seeing from the so-called heart line. He peers closer, until his breath practically caresses the skin of Kanda's palm, and all Allen can see is some small, fine lines forming a long line across his palm.

"This is the heart line, and yours says that—you have an emotional trauma…"

Allen's eyes move up to Kanda's frowning face. He looks almost, _almost_ serious when he finally notices Allen's stare and immediately pulls his hand away from Daisya's grip. "Tch, this is a load of bull."

"Hey, it's called palmistry," Daisya tells his brother with some kind of a haughty look. "Have you never heard of it?"

"Why are you even interested in this shit? This is so gay."

"Says the one with the long, silky hair."

"You bastard—"

"Now, now, before you two start destroying Mr. Tiedoll's living room, can we get some snack instead?" Allen cuts in when the two not-blood-related brothers look ready To switch from throwing insults at each other into something more physical.

Kanda spares Allen a glance and snorts. "Glutton."

"Hey!"

"Say Allen, do you want me to read your palm too?" Daisya offers with an enthusiastic smile, and Allen is ready to give in to his curiosity and agrees, but, "I'm still learning though, and I can only read left hand for now—"

_Oh_. Well.

Allen puts on a disarming smile on his face. "Well then I suppose I should wait until you learn to read right palms," he laughs a little, rising his gloved left hand and waving it dismissively. "I doubt even experts can read this."

Right. Allen had shown his hand at some point of their acquaintance, hadn't he? Allen had been certain it was not quite a pleasant sight. But, boys? They have morbid curiosity.

Realization dawns on Daisya then. "Ah…right. Uhh, Sorry, Al," he says, scratching the back of his head and laughing nervously.

Allen simply smiles. "It's okay," because while he is not offended, he'd rather the subject of his left hand isn't brought up too often. So Allen lowers his hand, but then Kanda catches it mid-air.

Allen blinks.

"We have homework," is Kanda's lame excuse before dragging Allen away and up the stairs. It is when they're halfway to Kanda's room that Allen realizes where Kanda is dragging him, and he breaks into a small chuckle. Kanda turns to face him and frowns. "What?"

Allen shakes his head. "Nothing. Homework it is," he says in a light tone, ignoring the way Kanda is looking at him as if he were stupid.

He doesn't mind when Kanda keeps dragging him to his room, because Kanda's bedroom is one of the few places, aside of his own house, inside which Allen feels safe enough to take off the darned glove.

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**Cheap**

It is customary for Allen to give _that smile_ first thing in the morning on this particular day. Kanda doesn't quite remember when exactly this started, probably two or three years ago, but after last year, Kanda kind of gets it.

"Palms up," he commands, and when the brat obeys, Kanda drops a bag of chocolate in his hands, before walking ahead, past a blinking Allen.

Kanda can hear the rustling sounds as Allen catches up with him, eyes and hand searching the bag of chocolate. He hears a faint chuckle, before Allen finally opens his mouth and says in good humor, "These are the cheap kind for kids."

"One," Kanda starts, left eyebrow ticking with annoyance, "They're goddamn chocolates. Doesn't matter if they're expensive or not, they'll give you cavities eventually—"

"I won't get cavities—"

"And _two_," Kanda cuts in, turning to face Allen and pointing an accusing finger under the brat's nose, before continuing, "You're a kid."

"Hey! I'm not" Allen says indignantly.

"Are too. Who the hell uses this Valentine bullshit as a reason to get free candies?"

"Chocolates. And isn't it a tradition in Japan?"

"How the fuck should I know. I wasn't raised there."

"You're Japanese," Allen retorts easily, "or would you rather I ask for flowers instead?" he teases.

Kanda snorts and gives Allen a _yeah, right_ and snorts. "You wouldn't. Flowers aren't edible."

"Good point," Allen nods to himself, hiding a smile. "Anyway, I was kidding. Thanks for this." And with that, he fishes a piece of chocolate from the bag and plops it into his mouth. "Mmhh, yummy~"

"Good for you," Kanda comments airily, sparing Allen a side glance and seeing the brat's happy face as he _wolfs down_ on the poor chocolates.

_Tch,_ he thinks, _brat is so easy to please._

He wonders if next year he should he buy Allen a _really_ expensive chocolate and see what kind of face Allen would make.

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**Wish**

"Come on, Lenalee, make a wish!"

The small group of people cheers as Lenalee smiles widely, cheeks pinking a little with happiness. Allen cannot help but smile, and thinks it's funny how every time he attends a birthday party, when someone says 'make a wish', the whole room seems to be thinking about their own wishes. He can see it in the way they stare expectantly at the candles as if they were the ones who would low the candles and (hopefully) get their wishes granted.

Allen has his own wish, of course. It's nothing grand, really. Allen is a simple person whose wish is to live another day like this. To be allowed to keep what he has now: his little group of friends at school, an irresponsible guardian, but his guardian nonetheless, the nice family next door and his grouchy childhood friend…

Looking up, Allen peers at Kanda and wonders if he's wishing for something too. Kanda's face betrays nothing—as impassive as always—so he glances around and finds Lavi's single eye glinting with—something. He follows Lavi's gaze and sees Lenalee, and something clicks in his brain.

_Oh, _he thinks_, of course._

Allen eyes Lenalee and smiles to himself, wondering if the girl wishes the same. It is then that he sees her eyes sparkle with hopes, and notices it is directed to the person standing next to him.

His eyes widens then, but before he can wonder if what he saw was true, the girl blows the candles and a round of applauds resound in the room.

Glancing tentatively aside, Allen is met with Kanda's gruffly curious, "What?"

Allen shakes his head and smiles.

"It's nothing."

He wonders if it's really _nothing_.

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**Please don't break my heart by leaving without reviewing, especially if you put this into your fave list? Thank you :')**

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**DON'T FORGET ABOUT YULLEN WEEK, PEOPLE! :D**

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**P.S: YES I am going to update DAYS PASSING BY too at some point. Please be patient and I'm so very sorry for the long, extended wait :(**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Umm.. Hi?

I am still alive and writing, yeah. Enjoy?

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><p><strong>THE WALK<strong>

**.part 3.**

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><p><strong>.Melody.<strong>

There is a grand piano at Cross' living room. Allen never knows Cross actually plays, so he suspects it is there just for decoration. Cross, after all, loves sophisticated things. And this beauty here fits perfectly in the spacious living room with a classic design dominated by black and white furnitures. Everything in here will probably put any ordinary people into a lifetime debt. Allen doesnt even want to know where Cross gets all that money to create 'such a perfect place to impress women', as Cross had put it.

Allen snorts.

Resuming his cleaning duty, Allen carefully wipes the petite grand piano, making sure the already shiny black surface free of any dust. Despite never playing it for all the time he has lived in this house with Cross, Allen has always cleaned the piano with care. After all, he does love the piano. He used to play it at some point in his life where he has barely any memories left.

His fingers absently touch the keys then while his mind wanders, working on its own to recall a familiar melody. Before Allen knows it, his fingers move across the keys. Slowly and a little awkwardly. His fingers move tentatively across the key, clumsy and out of practice. A twitch forms on his eyebrow when the sound produced isn't as good as it should be.

Then, his lips move almost in reflex, singing to an old lullaby that he is surprised he still remembers.

_Then the boy fell asleep  
>and one or two ambers in the fading ashes of the fire<br>flared up in the shape of a beloved face_

His fingers slowed down when a mix of nostalgia and unpleasant feelings twist his gut.

"Mana..."

"What song is that?"

Allen jerks in surprise at the new voice. Turning his head, he finds Kanda leaning on the wall near the entrance with his hands folded over his chest. Allen lets out a breath. "What are you doing here?"

Kanda shrugs. "The old man wanted me to invite you and Cross for dinner tonight. He could have just called, but Tiedoll was never good with cell phones."

Allen chuckles at the remark. "Give the poor man a break. Technology isn't always best friends with elder people," he comments, to which Kanda just snorts lightly.

"So. What were you singing? I didn't even know you play the piano."

There was a slight accusation tone in Kanda's words. Probably he feels a little betrayed that for all these times they have been some sort of best friends, Allen never plays piano in front of him. Or tells him that he does.

"A lullaby," Allen barely mumbles the words as his head is suddenly filled with bittersweet memories. "I haven't played the piano in a while now. It's something I did before I came here, you know."

Kanda probably doesn't, but Allen doesn't really feel like elaborating. He knows Kanda wouldn't push anyway. Or, well. Hopefully.

Kanda eyes him for a moment, but before Allen has the chance to get uncomfortable, Kanda opens his mouth to say, "Your singing voice isn't all that great."

"Well, sorry for not being a singer," Allen retorts, eyebrow twitching with annoyance.

"At least you're not tone-deaf," his sorry excuse of a best friend says again, earning an offended look from Allen.

"Like I said, I'm not—"

"It's not bad," Kanda cuts in, and for some incomprehensible reason, Allen's heart kinds of skips a bit. "Now go tell your _Master_—" Kanda says this in a mocking tone, "—to come at seven. I'm going back to help the old man."

With that, Kanda simply turns on his heels and leaves without another word. Allen watches him go while muttering under his breath about a certain jerk who comes and goes as he pleases—bad memories and unpleasant feelings the lullaby had brought him now forgotten.

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**.Sing.**

It had taken a lot of efforts, especially on Allen's part, to even convince Kanda that going to karaoke was not that ridiculous of an idea as Kanda had always thought.

It took Lenalee a little bit of persuasion, added by some cajoling with that sweet, sweet voice and those big pleading eyes before finally, Kanda gave in and actually went with them.  
>Lavi had watched with half-amusement, and half—something Allen could not quite name yet—as Lenalee happily <em>dragged<em> Kanda along the streets with the other two guys following behind.

Well. No one could actually deny the only girl in this group, Allen thinks.

So here they are now, in a small Karaoke room somewhere downtown, singing their throat dry.

The dimmed room is filled with the blaring music from the sound system, the bass so deep it shakes the whole room with every beat. Above them is a lamp in the shape of a disco ball, its colorful LED lights changing colors from red to green to blue until Kanda claims—in the middle of his duet with Lavi—they're hurting his eyes, _dammit_.

The fact that Kanda would actually sing is kind of amazing. Him singing with Lavi? Well—it only proves Allen's theory that Kanda actually enjoys having some companies instead of being the anti-social jerk he seems to be portraying all along. Not that Allen had ever bought the act.

The duet is on Bohemian Rhapsody, courtesy of a challenge by Lavi and helped with Allen's taunts of—_are you afraid to sing your favorite song?_Sometimes, Allen wonders why Kanda keeps on falling for the same trick Allen always uses to get him to do something.

Glancing to the side, Allen sees the gleam in Lenalee's eyes. Her emerald eyes are obviously _shining_ despite the dim lighting. She cheers to the singing boys, shaking the tambourine and singing along. Allen can see how Lavi's voice gets just a little louder whenever Lenalee calls out his name, or the way Lenalee's starry eyes are more often dedicated to Kanda's falsetto, the sway of Kanda's body, or well—Kanda in general.

When the duet is over, Kanda shoves the mic under Allen's nose. "Your turn," he says menacingly.

Allen's smile is firmly in place. "Why don't we give the lady a chance to showcase her beautiful voice?"

"The _Lady_ already has her microphone," he hears Lavi say, and turns his head in time to see Lavi patting Lenalee's shoulder, gently.

"Can I have a solo?"

Allen gladly grants her wish.

He regrets it almost immediately when Lenalee begins to sing. Of _course_, he thinks as Lenalee's soft voice begins to float in the room. She is singing _Adele's_ song.

_You've been on my mind_  
><em>I grow fonder every day<em>  
><em>Lose myself in time<em>  
><em>Just thinking of your face<em>

Allen is sure Lavi does not miss the way Lenalee keeps glancing at Kanda. The long-haired prick in question, though, has his eyes trained on his phone, reading an incoming message.

_I dare you to let me be your, your one and only_  
><em>Promise I'm worthy to hold in your arms<em>  
><em>So come on and give me the chance<em>  
><em>To prove that I'm the one who can<em>  
><em>Walk that mile until the end starts<em>

It makes Allen almost wants to smack Kanda upside the head, for the longing in Lenalee's voice is so clear it's a wonder Kanda actually missed it.

Then again, can Allen say the same thing about Lenalee? He certainly won't hit Lena's head for not noticing the longing in Lavi's eye.

"Christ," Allen mumbles inaudibly. "This is a train wreck."

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**.Secret.**

Once upon a time, during a boring day in which Allen was lazily browsing random internet facts, he read about a study on women's inability to keep a secret. The news article he had read back then was a study conducted on 3000 British women. No matter how personal or confidential the information, one in 10 women admitted to being unable to keep a secret, while almost half who took part said they'd often felt the need to offload their secrets to someone, wrote the article.

So, when Lenalee drags him in the middle of lunch break to a more secluded area of the inner campus garden, Allen is not more surprised rather than he is dreading of what Lenalee would tell him.

If a woman cannot keep a secret for long, they certainly cannot keep a secret _crush_. Especially when it _is_ a secret crush.

"Do you know if Kanda likes anyone?"

Well. "Umm. Not that I'm aware of." Then, for good measure, he adds, "I don't even think he has any interest in romance."

_Allen Walker_, reprimands the voice in his head, _you're supposed to give a neutral answer, not one that would crush the heart of a girl in love_.

"I see," Lenalee casts her eyes down, dejectedly. But the next second, her head is raised, and the light in her eyes shine brighter. "But that means _I_have a chance, right?"

"If you put it that way…" Allen trails off, a finger idly scratching his cheek. He doesn't know how to answer this. On one hand, he doesn't want Lenalee heartbroken. On the other hand, this is _Kanda_. She probably will get her heart broken. "Umm… may I know… why do you even bother?"

Lena gives him a look which says _boys_. "Because I like him, so I want to try," she says matter-of-factly, if a little shyly, making Allen feeling _just_ a little stupid.

He laughs nervously.

"I know Kanda is difficult, so it's not like I'm going to bombard him or anything. I'll take it slow. So keep this a secret, okay?"

"Mmkay…"

"Even from _Lavi_," she emphasizes. Briefly, Allen wonders if this means Lenalee actually notices Lavi's feelings… and well, it's impossible to begin with, keeping a secret from Lavi. Especially something like this. Allen is quite sure Lavi knows already.

It is wiser to pretend to be clueless, though. "Understood," he replies cheerily.

"Thanks," the girl throws a soft smile his way, then hesitates. "Umm. I have your support… right? I mean, since you're his best friend and all…"

Somewhere, something is tugging lightly at his chest. Twisting in an uncomfortable way Allen doesn't know of, and decides to pay it no mind.

He smiles. "Of course."

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**.Close.**

Maybe, it is something that Allen has notices subconsciously all along, but given the opportunity, Lenalee always sits close to Kanda. Or walk by his side. And probably, she is at the top list of exemption where Kanda actually tolerates and—dare he say it—_enjoys_ a presence of the opposite gender.

The girls at school adore Kanda, yes. And so are the female teachers. Or female shopkeepers. Bystanders. You name it. Female _adore_ Kanda, for his rather exotic beauty—Kanda would kill him if he heard Allen using that word—his broad shoulders, silky hair, high cheekbones and strong jaws.

Kanda is a universally-accepted epitome of Good Looking.

So the general female population would _fawn_ over him, which does not work well with Kanda's rather anti-social nature.

But Lenalee? Kind, sweet, loving Lenalee is one of the very few female who are not blinded by Kanda's look. She sees Kanda for the person that he is, and treats him as an equal, a companion; not putting him on some kind of imaginary pedestal.

So, when she says she likes Kanda, Allen believes it is because of who Kanda is, and it makes him want to root for her, but—

"Hey, Kanda, there's something in your hair…"

"Hmm?"

"Hold still," she says gently, before reaching up to run her fingers in Kanda's hair and pick a small piece of dust which was formerly stuck in his ponytail. "There."

"Thanks," Kanda mumbles and continues to walk, Lenalee trailing beside him.

Allen wonders if, one day, Lenalee would really able to make Kanda see romance. With her.

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**.Heart.**

Kanda's profile, Allen decides, always looks less menacing when he has his hair tied at the base of his nape. He only does this when he's at home, after taking a long, nice shower before going to bed. He knows this particular habit of his childhood friend for they have had countless sleepovers.

Tonight is one such a night, when Allen is in no mood to be in that big, empty house. Cross has gone off to god-knows-where for the nth time. And Allen has been having a lot in mind, lately.

"Stop that," Kanda says irately, glaring from his position at the desk to Allen who is currently occupying Kanda's bed while staring at nothing in particular.

"Stop what?" Allen draws his eyebrows.

Kanda frowns at him, the kind that is questioning his sanity—or sometimes, concerns, Allen is still having difficulties telling them apart. "Looking at my face and then sighing. What is your problem?"

Oh. Well. Then apparently, he has been staring at Kanda. Okay.

"Why do you have to be so good looking?" Allen blurts out before he could even stop himself. Then, as if to amend, he adds, "Totally not fitting your shitty personality."

Kanda simply snorts, returning his attention to the screen of his laptop. "And it's a problem because?"

"You're breaking innocent girl's hearts. That is horrible."

Again, those deep blue eyes stare at him as if he was crazy. "What the fuck is this about?"

_I'm afraid you're going to break Lenalee's heart_, Allen's mind supply helpfully, but of course, he would never say it. Lenalee would definitely kill him with some of her Taekwondo moves. That would hurt.

"Nothing."

Allen can feel Kanda's eyes on him, scrutinizing his face as if willing his head to crack open so Kanda could see what's in it. It's kind of a creepy look, but also—what the hell is his heart doing, skipping a beat like that?

"Am I breaking _your_ heart?"

The question nearly makes his heart stop. "What? No! What the _hell_—"

"Then it's not your goddamn problem."

Allen falls silent at that. He watches as Kanda works on his laptop, promptly ignoring Allen's existence in the bedroom.

He ponders on Kanda's words.

Yeah. Just because Lenalee told him her little secret, doesn't mean he is responsible for her feelings towards Kanda.

Better to just watch from the sidelines.

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**- t b c -**

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><p><strong>AN: **I'm so sorry I know I fail at updating. And yes I still very much CARE for my other fic, Days Passing By. Will definitely finish it sometime this year. It's just that I am now concentrating in writing actual books to be published IRL (I have one published this month and another which is due next month) sooo. Yeah. I still love fanfics though! :D

Reviews feed my plot bunnies and boost my writing mood :)


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